I Would Cry, And He Would Smile
by Dreamnorn
Summary: ...And stay with me a little while. Oneshot.


**Hello again, **_**Hey Arnold! **_**fandom.**

**Please don't kill me for being late on updating "Gateway to Balance"—my trusted editor is going through a 3-week-long finals course, so I haven't had her to look over my chapter. It sounds silly, I know, waiting weeks before I post it up, but she's the only person I feel comfortable sharing my unedited work with. I would edit it myself, but I have terrible difficulty picking out my own mistakes because English is my second language.**

**So. Ahem.**

**This is a oneshot inspired off of a short comic series called "Sweet Misery" I found while—of all things—browsing for KND fanart. I won't say what it's about, as it would spoil this fanfic, but it was simply incredible, the way the artist drew such magical words with pictures.**

**So I figured, heck, why not try draw magical pictures with words?**

**Thank you dA user limey404 for the inspiration!**

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I Would Cry, And He Would Smile

It's my fault.

It's my _freaking_ fault.

I don't need to look behind me to know what's happening. I only had to look at my parents' faces to know. They're heartbroken, upset, and now they're taking out their unfiltered anger at each other.

All because of me.

The hammering rain's drowning out most of the noise, but I can still hear the faint shouts and roars of Bob and Miriam. My figure is huddled solemnly on the curbside, sitting in a growing puddle of water. No cars have passed this area for a while, probably due to the weather. But as I hesitantly raise my head to peer at the streets, I can still see grungy tracks where the ambulance took my sister away not even three hours ago.

Why, oh why did she have to land on the table with the phone? One instance of childish spite getting the better of me, and _bam_—my sister is a broken toy splintered with wooden shards.

Here I am now, bathing in the rain of my misery and mingling with the first tears I've cried since what seems like an eternity ago. The place where my locket normally rests is vacant. Perfect. It matches my heart. Empty. No golden warmth of love (or perhaps my own body-heat) to reflect on that horrible hole in my ribcage. I don't deserve that. I don't deserve anything.

Especially not Arnold.

That's why I put my locket on my pillow before I went outside. I couldn't bear to feel the comfort that even his imaginary silhouette could bestow on me. Not the pretend affection to protect me from the driving drops drilling cold, harsh realities into my mind and spirit.

The wind shakily leaves more rain on my face as it wistfully ambles down the road. I blink slowly, sparkling tears trailing down my cheek. Part of me wants to believe that the sky is crying with me, that it can feel the same pain I'm feeling now. But these raindrops don't carry the same shimmering essence of hopelessness and depression that my tears do. This sky above Hillwood doesn't care about me. I'm starting to think no one does.

_Splish, SPLASH._

With a start, I look up. A figure is approaching me from across the empty street. It stops close to the curbside where I sit. The first person I want to see, but the last one as well.

I could feel my eyes widen as Arnold looks at me, appearing as if he had leapt out of my locket and into reality. He was gazing at me with those green half-lidded eyes that would always haunt my girlish dreams. He wasn't wearing a raincoat, though he carried an umbrella. Oh, the nostalgia… I remember when he appeared before me on a similarly rainy day as I walked alone to preschool.

The day we met.

Arnold tilts his head and smiles quietly. He offers his hand in front of me, as if we had run into each other and he was hoping to help me up. Oh, Arnold, so courteous, so gallant, even to such a tortured specimen as me!

…

Criminey, I bet I look dreadful right now. Heck, maybe downright pitiful. Wordlessly, as I let him pull me to my feet, I can feel the uncomfortable chafing of soaked clothes on my skin, the stickiness of pigtails against the sides of my head, and gloppy mud squelching in my socks. I've been crying this whole time… does that mean my eyes are red and puffy? Does he notice? He must have, or he wouldn't be taking out a handkerchief—

Wait… what?

Did Arnold just hand me a handkerchief?

This is blowing my mind.

I wish I could say something to him. He's looking at me with such kind expectance. C'mon, Helga. At least a "thank you" would suffice!

Smiling, I open my mouth to thank him, but instead of words, a few loud sobs break the silence. Fresh tears are being formed and released from my eyes. This time, however, I can tell they're happy tears. I hope he can too.

Arnold grins. He says nothing, but from the look in his eyes, he doesn't have to. He understands. In my mind I can imagine him saying, _It's alright, Helga. You're okay. Everything's okay_. Oh, how they soothe my restless spirit!

Hesitantly, I reach for his hand. Arnold's eyes widen in surprise. I could feel my muscles freeze, as if he had zapped me with a taser. Aww crap, what am I doing?

I turn away from him. Maybe I should head back home.

Suddenly, I feel a warm tug on my arm.

With a soft gasp, I look to see Arnold tenderly holding my hand. If my insides aren't melting right now, then I don't know _what_ this feeling is. A sense of… completeness. Requite. Heheh, I feel a little dizzy in the head. I should probably head inside now.

Softly, Arnold begins to lead me down the sidewalk. I take my place beside him in an instant. He turns his gaze to the road and leads me off the curbside and into the solemn streets. With a soft smile, I flash Arnold a look I usually reserve for when he's no longer in sight—the honest grin of love. I'm still crying, of course, but thanks to him, I know that Olga will be okay. I know that my parents will make up. My family loves me, even though they don't usually show it.

But here, with Arnold… that doesn't seem to matter right now. It's kind of funny actually, how I would cry, and he would smile, and stay with me a little while.

Oh, Arnold… my love. Savior of sorrows, guardian of happiness. How long have I gazed at you from afar, but now I finally feel your sacred touch. This humble hankie I hold to heart fills the void I so foolishly tried to empty. I, of all people, should have known that you and only you could once again save my fragile soul from shattering in sadness for good. If only I could come out and tell you the truth, dear Arnold, for I love you with all my being, and will love you forevermore. Oh, if only….

Arnold turns in my direction and smiles at me with a familiar expression of care. Tears are still coming down my face, I know, but I retain my smile. The look on his face, that deep down he knows we can be friends, explains it all. He doesn't have to say anything, and for now, neither do I.

--

**So yeah. Just a fluffly little oneshot. :D I hope you enjoyed it!**

**I'm not encouraging nor discouraging reviews, as I wrote this on a whim and it only had a once-over for edits. If you do review, though, keep in mind that (as I stated before) English is my second language, so mistakes are hard for me to pick out.**


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